Swimming Against the Flow
by JavaKoala
Summary: Jaye, after a bad day with the chatty critters, just wants a drink or two, but fate and a certain wax lion have different plans. FINISHED! At long last, FINISHED!
1. Default Chapter

The Barrel and its nightly crowd went about its business, all of it carefully ignoring the pale woman sitting at the bar. Paying no attention to the two empty glasses, the slightly chewed ends of the stirrers in the glasses, her "somewhere else" gaze, the half-empty glass she held to her lips without drinking, and the orange-cream colored wax lion with the malformed face that sat near her elbow. Nope, she might as well not even be there for all the notice she drew.

The mixed drink looked like muddy slime, but Jaye paid the drink's appearance little attention. The effect of the drink concerned her more. To be more specific, why she wasn't feeling any effects, especially after the first two.

Her blue eyes looked down to the lion. She sucked the rest of the contents from the glass without shifting her gaze. The alcohol level of the drink made no impression on her. She felt beyond sensation.

The lion's placid face did not acknowledge her. Why should it? Wax figures don't interact with the world.

Well…

Neither did Jaye. At least, she usually refrained from it, except to buy food or knock back drinks or deal with customers who wouldn't take avoidance for an answer at her job. But then, she wasn't made of wax. A person would expect Jaye to talk, move, or experience, in some way, the life she led.

A wax lion, however….

"I hate you," she said, still eying the little dent-faced creature.

No answer.

"In the oven at 450 degrees. Five minutes. How would you like that? Huh?"

Like the Buddha, contented silence from the lion.

"Or maybe the highway? I could take bets on how long before you're flattened by a logging truck." A cold, sickening shiver ran through her. Jaye shook it off. "A bit of tit for tat, you little bastard? Huh?"

From the backroom of the bar stepped the only thing that could possibly distract Jaye from her one-sided conversation, and its name was Eric. Messy dark hair, a scruffy beard that Jaye secretly believed he kept trimmed at a perpetual three-day growth and a slender body that she felt compelled to touch, but refused to allow herself. He scanned the room, judging the crowd.

She liked how Eric always seemed to ponder, if even for a second, everything he did or said. A man who considered his actions and reactions. No, she thought, not consider them so much as make sure they are honest. He was everything she felt she couldn't be, for whatever reason.

And he was so goddamned cute.

A smile, half formed, came to her lips. She waited for him to focus on the bar.

"Push his buttons."

The smile froze. She looked down. The lion looked at her and grinned.

"Push his buttons."

"Piss off."

"Push his buttons."

"Oh, god, just once can't you freaks let me have some time with him without it turning into a crisis? Huh? Once?"

The lion appeared to be chewing something for a moment before it looked back up and opened its mouth.

"Shut up," Jaye said, louder than she hoped.

"I haven't even said anything, and the lady is telling me to shut up."

Startled, she looked up and directly into the Eric's face. His gentle smile hovered in front of her.

Why did the smell of his breath make her hungry?

"No, I…not you. Uh, just sick of me going over my day. You know? 'Shut up.'" Then she punched herself in the upper arm to drive the point home.

He did not look completely convinced. Still, he smiled wider as he glanced down. "Must be a bad day. Most retail clerks don't knock back three Swamp Waters to unwind."

"Well, you know, inventory, the Mouth Breather sneaking up every few minutes, pissy tourists…and, uh, other things. Can I have another one of these? Please? You make them stronger than the back-up bartender." Jaye gave him her best grin.

In her head, she told him, "You won't believe what these little inanimate weasels made me do. I almost got smeared by a bus. Yes, a bus! All to save a windblown bird." No, she reasoned, that makes me sound like I didn't care about bird. Not that he would believe me about the talking menagerie. Oh God, do I sound crazy? Wait, what the hell was I talking about?

Eric set the drink in front of her, motioned for her to wait a moment and moved to the other end of the bar to take care of customers.

Jaye took a large gulp of her fresh drink, then looked at the wax lion. "Well, big mouth? Anything?"

No movement. She picked it up and shook it. "Come on, you never give up that easily." She held it a fraction of an inch from her face and mocked it, "Push his buttons. Push his buttons."

Suddenly, the room rolled, and Jaye grabbed the bar. Looking around, she noticed no one else seemed to be affected the gravitational flip-flop. Okay, the drinks are finally hitting home. Her head sank slowly into her hands, hoping that would keep her head from rolling away.

A glance down to the far end of the bar made it clear Eric had his hands full with a group of business women. They smiled and wiggled back and forth on their barstools as they watched him mix their drinks. Eric seemed to be enjoying the attention. But not as much as the women.

Jaye looked down at herself. She had on a flannel shirt, jeans (only on their third day of wear), sneakers and her damned Wonderfalls vest she had forgotten she to leave at work. Taking inventory of the women at the other end of the bar, she counted pairs of perfect pantyhose ending in shoes that cost more than her car, noted the crisp cut of their dresses, considered the artfulness of their still-perfect-after-a-day-at-work makeup.

A squeal drew her attention back to the herd of corporate women. A couple were leaning across the bar nattering at Eric. Their tone sounded playful, but the look spoke of desire.

"Bitches."

Jaye felt her lips press into faint, straight lines and her eyelids narrowed.

A blonde with generous curves and a pixie haircut (without the decency to hide the dark roots) turned to look at Jaye. Taking note of the searing-laser beam stare of death being sent at her, the woman smiled, turned to Eric and motioned him to lean close. As he did, she moved closer to him, putting her hand on his upper arm, which she rubbed warmly and patted before settling back into her seat. The blonde turned back to Jaye and laughed.

Jaye picked up one of her empty glasses, hefted the weight. Decided against throwing it. Didn't want to put someone's eye out. The lion? Looking down, she saw it look up and shake its head.

"Why not? You can go home with whichever one I hit. Maybe one of them would like you to ruin her life." Looking back at the group as they crackled with laughter at something Eric said, Jaye added, "At least I could take one of them down quickly."

"Press his buttons."

"Shut the hell up." When she glanced back down, the little lion was jerking his head to the side. She followed his motion and her eyes came to rest on the dispenser nozzle used to add water, cola, seltzer and other general liquids to drinks.

"Press his buttons. Press his buttons."

Jaye grinned, picked up the wax lion and kissed its little muzzle. It shook its head and made small spitting sounds as she dropped it back onto the bar.

Grabbing the nozzle, she looked at the buttons until she found one that she figured was water. A quick shot into her empty glass to check pressure and liquid content, then she turned to the herd. The evil blonde had her hand on top of Eric's as she smiled up into his face.

"HEY."

That shout came from somewhere deep in Jaye's torso and vibrated through her entire body. She almost saw herself as some Amazon warrior ready to claim her prize. Well, she still had both breasts, and she was armed with little more than a fancy water hose. But she had the animal circus behind her on this one, as well as a couple too many stiff mixed drinks.

She WAS Xena, damn it.

Almost everyone in the bar turned to look at her. When the short-haired boyfriend tempter locked eyes with her, Jaye calculated the water stream's trajectory and fired. The blast diffused somewhat by the time it reached the end of the bar. Didn't matter. It hit dark-roots chick square in the face. The woman, seemingly in shock, sat in the downpour for a moment before shrieking. Like a Greek chorus, her friends picked up the shrill wail. Then it looked like the fluttering of a massive tropical bird, colors bouncing and weaving.

Jaye stood there still laughing when Eric practically slung her over his shoulder and sprinted for the bar's backroom. She could still hear the rumbling and squeaks of the women when Eric tossed her onto his simple bed.

"Sit here," he said. "And don't you dare move." He turned to leave, stopped and quickly spun back, kissing her before she knew what was happening. She didn't even get to prepare to enjoy it.

"And thank you." He smiled, his whole face showing his delight. Then he was gone.

Jaye thought her face would rip in half if she smiled any wider. She might be crazy. Apparently, Eric loved crazy. And that was more than fine with her.

From beside her, a throat cleared. She looked down to see the little lion. Eric must have snagged it as he scooped her up. He really is wonderful, she decided.

"I love you, you little wonderful freak. And to think I doubted you. Ha. 'Push his buttons.' Perfect."

The lion looked up at her.

"Strike a match."

The room suddenly twirled without Jaye's consent.


	2. Chapter 2

"Is this some sort of test on the four elements? Cause I'm tempted to show you the element earth from the bottom of a hole just big enough to fit your Orangesicle ass. Strike a match? Shoulda stopped when you still had me on your side."

Jaye suddenly grabbed the edge of Eric's bed, but the rocking of the room failed to cease. When she looked at the little lion, she felt detached, as if she was rapidly floating upwards.

"Oh, God." Her hand went to her mouth.

The orange lion looked up, saw the expression on her face and tried to remove itself from its little display stand.

Hoping the alcohol-induced funhouse room would not trip her or dump her ass on the ceiling, Jaye launched herself forward. A sink, a trashcan, an empty box…hell, a floor drain would do. The room jerked to the left. She shuffled in the opposite direction and bumped against a metal rack lined with supplies.

Ah, a mop bucket! As her legs went all noodly, she pitched towards her target and put her hands out in front with vague hopes of breaking her fall and not her face.

"Can I file for a divorce from my mind on the grounds of irreconcilable differences?" was the only complete thought Sharon could understand from Jaye's voice-mail message. Then Jaye screamed something that sounded like "Birds of a feather? You weasels." After that, shouts of "Stop" and "Oh my God" and what almost could have been the sound of a truck's air horn before the message abruptly cut off.

According to Jaye's immediate boss, or "the creepy little shit" as Sharon thought of him, the younger Tyler had stormed out of work early by a good thirty minutes. "It's a good thing we were dead and needed to cut hours, or, man, she'd be looking for another job," he had said after being asked what time Jaye left. "You'd be looking for your spleen after she finished with you," Sharon informed him before heading to the freak show of a trailer park her sister called home.

The High & Dry trailer park reminded Sharon of a beatnik poetry reading she had attended in college – dark, drab, and peopled with individuals who, though having no direct place in her life, made her feel she was only one bad choice away a similar fate. The sun slipped low on the horizon, every second bringing total darkness closer. She squirmed in her leather seat as she stopped just outside Jaye's trailer.

No car. Didn't mean much to Sharon. Given Jaye's socialist nature, she could have loaned it to a homeless guy so he could cross the border to buy beer. Wouldn't be the first such incident.

The trailer appeared to have a light on inside. Sharon watched for a few moments, hoping the sound of her SUV would bring her sister to the door. It wasn't as though the trailer park had vehicles running amok. No movement from inside. Damn it, she thought. She was loath to leave the safety of her vehicle. Not that she was afraid. Her handy canister of Insta-Burn personal defense spray could send an attacker to an emergency room, and if that didn't work, she could always fall back on the training from that women's weekend self-defense course. Yeah, that was $850 well spent. And her fling with the instructor did not last as long as the class. Still, the thought brought forth a brief smile.

With a groan, Sharon used the special two-level running board to step down and out of the SUV and then headed to the door. She had just cleared the front of her vehicle when something moved in the edge of her vision. The spray canister went up before her head turned completely. Finally, the overpriced spray would prove itself.

She hesitated just as her thumb had started to press down. Facing the business end of her skin-blistering spray was a very fat Chihuahua.

The dog looked up at her calmly, ears up, hind legs splayed under the roundness of its belly. The two stared at each other for a long moment. Neither moved. Finally, the dog's tongue slowly slipped out of the side of its mouth and hung there.

Sharon's nose wrinkled. Oh Christ, what did that animal eat? "Shoo," she said. Then she motioned with her hands for it to leave. "Go on. Shoo."

Slowly, the Chihuahua leaned to the left, further and further, until it plopped onto its side. Of course, it broke wind again, this time audibly.

For a moment, Sharon considered the spray again. Then she huffed and marched up to Jaye's door.

She knocked three times hard, scraping her knuckles and hoping her sister was there so the evening and her search could be at an end. No answer. No sound. Just the more-than-faint wafting odor of the Chihuahua's flatulence.

"Jaye? Answer the damn door."

She waited. Still no response. Swallowing a harsh comment about the low intelligence of trailer park dwellers, Sharon attempted to open the door, which indeed swung open. Unlocked, she thought. One day she's going to come home to a psycho waiting at her table.

Given the image, Sharon allowed herself a smirk. The psycho would probably be frightened of Jaye if he or she knew anything about the intended victim.

Not that seeing your obviously brilliant sister toss aside her potential and goals in life should be a source of humor, but what were the options? Sobbing to passers-by? Pulling out clumps of her own fine blond hair? And murder certainly wasn't much of an option, though she felt confident she could find a few legal precedents to cover her ass. No, no. Skulking about picking up the scattered pieces of her sister's life and mind all because that is what big, responsible sisters do is what a perfectly liberal-oriented therapist would order.

Sticking her head in the doorway with the intention of calling out for Jaye, Sharon came eye to eye with a parrot. Its striking red head feathers hung mere inches from her nose as its eye held her gaze. For a moment, she panicked, afraid of moving for fear of alarming the bird. But the bird never moved. Then the fine layer of dust coating the parrot's feathers became noticeable.

"Jesus Holy Christ," she muttered. The bird kept watch so well because it had been stuffed and mounted, nailed to its perch. It had nothing better to do except stare at her.

But as she scanned the inside of the trailer, Sharon realized that the parrot's were not the only eyes watching her. Plush animals, from bears to fish to pot-bellied pigs, littered the living space. Scattered amongst them were crystal, ceramic and resin creatures of all species in various sizes. From the ceiling swayed rubber spiders, snakes and lizards. Numerous cereal boxes and posters, all sporting animals both realistic and cartoonish, lined the walls where the three-dimensional critters were not stacked.

Sharon quickly entered the trailer and shut the door.

"Oh my god, she really is crazy."


	3. Chapter 3

Eric found Jaye face down in the mop bucket and heard the all-too-familiar chant, "OhmyGodlemmedielemmedieOhmyGodlemmedie, please."

"Are you keeping your head above the water? I'd hate to lose my favorite customer, even after what you did."

Jaye did not so much as flinch. Finally, echoing inside the plastic bucket, she said, "I never really saw myself dying like an addicted rock star." Her head lifted, and she squinted at Eric. "I'm really sorry."

Then the tears came.

It could have been the booze. It could have been the embarrassment. It could have been the raw stench coming up from the mop bucket. No matter what the reason for the crying, her tears pulled him to her.

"Come on. It's okay. It's not like this is the worst thing that's ever happened, Jaye."

He lifted her up, making a point not to look into the bucket. With his arm around her waist, he supported and guided her to his cot. Once she was sitting, he reached around and grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels.

Her sobs were soft and weak, though her face was awash with wetness. As he wiped her cheeks and mouth, Eric noticed she looked more pale than normal.

He tilted her face up. "Jaye? What is wrong? I've seen you drink alcoholics under the table."

Jay blinked her eyes clear and looked directly at him for the first time since he walked in. His face…so beautiful, and the expression on it was one she had hoped to see one day directed at her. Care. Concern. His total attention. She wanted to give herself up and let him inside her life, her mind and her feelings. It wasn't the alcohol thinking for her, of that she was sure. How could a face that sweet not offer a safe place to unburden herself?

"Eric, I…."

"Strike a match."

In Jaye's mind, she saw Eric moving rapidly away from her as if she suddenly looked at him through the wrong end of telescope. The soaring sensation of freedom and release shriveled and crashed deep in her torso, and if stunned numbness hadn't cushioned the impact, Jaye realized she probably would have wanted to die – no, just instantly cease to be, period. To be stricken from history. To have never existed for the pain to happen.

"Jaye, what are you thinking? Something just happened. I saw it, in your eyes."

She touched his face and focused just on the experience. She pushed down everything and let herself feel the warmth of his soft skin, the scratch of his beard and the crinkle of his eyebrows. For a few moments, all she existed as in the universe was the point of contact with Eric.

Then came the excuse that her mind cobbled together from a snippet of truth here and a panel of reality there.

"I just haven't been taking care of myself. Not enough food or sleep. Can't seem to feel at ease. Can't focus."

"You seemed pretty focused out at the bar a bit ago." He smiled again and cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. His thumb wiped at a stray tear.

"Yeah, a moment of clarity, inspired by being pissed off. I really shouldn't have done that."

"Well, it gave me an excuse to sling you over my shoulder, so I can mark that off my list of life goals. Good news, none of the women are going to press charges or demand you be banned from the bar."

"I wouldn't like that, either."

"But the bad news is that your sister apparently knows the one you were aiming for."

Jaye chuckled. "You must mean Ms. Meat Hooks. And how do you know Sharon knows her?

He shrugged. "Well, they seemed to be friendly when they were talking to each other."

Jaye shot up and off the cot. "Sharon is here?"

Eric nodded.

"Oh shit." She reached down, grabbed the lion and stuffed him in her pocket. "Can I go out the back door? Please?"

"There you are."

Eric and Jaye turned their heads together to see Sharon, straightening her suit jacket, click-clacking towards them with a smile on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Without taking her eyes off Sharon or moving her lips, Jaye whispered, "She's smiling. Why the hell is she smiling?"

Giving a small shrug, Eric instinctively stepped away from Sharon as she neared.

"Am I interrupting something? A private talk? An intervention?"

"Look, I'm sorry about the phone call. I was just pondering a philosophical ideal and wanted your legal opinion." Jaye smiled as large as she could.

"You couldn't afford my fee. But that isn't why I'm here really."

"It isn't?"

Sharon waved her sister's hesitation aside with a hand gesture. "No. I just think we need to have a sister-to-sister chat."

Jaye's face fell slightly. "Nuh-uh. The last time you said something like that, you told me Mr. Mumps died."

"Mr. Mumps?" Eric said, looking from one sister to the other.

"A chipmunk I rescued when I was 11. The general consensus was that he committed suicide. Still, I always had my doubts." She glared at Sharon.

"Oh, please. The little rodent threw every scrap of food we gave him right back out of the cage, and he constantly dumped his water." She stopped herself and smiled again. "Really, Jaye, I've been looking for you since I got your message. I have an early client meeting, so I need to talk to you. Now."

Jaye looked to Eric. "Don't let her take me."

He glanced at Sharon and said, "I don't get involved in family matters. There's no winning side. Plus, I'm sure they need me back out at the bar." He quickly left the area.

Leaning around Sharon, Jaye watched him walk away. She couldn't suppress a small smile.

"Good to see you still find him appealing. Maybe there is hope for you yet."

Jaye cut her eyes towards her sister. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Sharon shook her head. "Nothing. Come on. I'll drive you home. From the way you look and from what I've heard, you shouldn't be driving. And you look pale. When was the last you time you ate anything?"

Submitting to being led, Jaye said, "Please, don't talk to me about food."

3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Outside, Sharon clicked her key fob and the SUV unlocked. Stench hit her as she opened the door, causing her to step back. She sighed.

"Ah, jeez, what happened to your car, Sharon? It smells like you've be hauling dirty diapers in there."

"A little rat dog out at your trailer park is what happened. He kept…you know…farting all around the vehicle. Then I ended up stepping in a pile of his shit. I thought I cleaned it all up."

"Oh, you missed some, all right."

"Well, you had better hope that smell comes out."

"Me? I didn't make you step in dog crap."

"I wouldn't have stepped in any if I wasn't looking for you." She dug around in her purse to find a bottle of perfume.

"It was just a phone call, Sharon. Not a cry for help. Not that you'd come running if it was."

Sharon held her nose and spritzed the subtle resin-scented perfume. "I resent that."

"Ah-ha," Jaye answered as she pulled herself up into the SUV. "That's a defensive tone. What are you hiding? Why are you really looking for me?"

"What? I can't be concerned about your welfare? I swear you act like I have no compassion."

"Of course you do," Jaye said, pulling the door shut. "It all depends on what you get out of it."

Sharon gasped. "God, you are being a bitch."

Jaye leaned her head back and furrowed her brow. "Let's see, there can't be any money involved 'cause I don't know anyone who would pay to check up on me."

"True enough, although I think I could find people who would pay to make you go away."

Glancing at Sharon, she could see a definite look of annoyance, but not as pronounced as she expected. "So that leaves emotional blackmail, which would mean Mom and Dad. Well, Mom, because she's the Queen of Guilt." Then she turned and stared at her older sister.

Sharon kept her face as neutral as she could and stared straight ahead. "I can't believe you think I'm prone to Mother's manipulation." She could feel Jaye's gaze as clearly as if it were a finger, wet with spit, slowly moving closer and closer to her ear. A favorite sibling torture in the Tyler household. Never failed to gain a response from the victim.

"Okay, okay. Dad asked me to check up on you. You haven't come to the house to mooch recently, and he's still worried about you dealing with the hostage situation, so he wondered if I'd follow up. But that was two or three days ago. I actually let it slip my mind until I got your voice mail."

Jaye nodded. "Thank you. Your lack of concern is untarnished." She cleared her throat. "Can we get going? Maybe that will help cut the odor."

"Strike a match."

Her hand went instinctively to the pocket holding the wax lion though she knew she was the only one who could hear her inanimate buddy jabbering. Actually, the advice made sense.

As Sharon put the SUV into reverse, Jaye felt around the console between the two front seats until she found a book of matches. Thank god for Sharon's old-fashioned accessories. She pulled three matches loose and lighted them.

Now, was it the flames or the smoke from the extinguished matches that helped kill odor?

She waved the flames around.

"What the hell are you doing? Put those out."

Jaye turned in her seat. "In a minute. I'm trying to get rid of this god-awful odor." She reached back to wave the matches through the backseat area. Looking back to make sure she didn't scorch Sharon's leather seats, she arced the flames up, around and down.

Suddenly, two large round eyes looked back at her.

She screamed, jerking her arm back and causing the matches to go out.

Sharon, who had been intent on backing up, screamed in response to Jaye, overturned the wheel and flinched, inadvertently tromping the gas pedal. The large vehicle lurched to the right, roared and smacked firmly into another car pulling out of its parking space. A sudden loud crunching bang, and then all was silent.

From the backseat, in the stretching moment of silence, came a small squeaky fart and a tired bark.


	5. Chapter 5

Sharon quickly turned to Jaye. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Jaye slowly shook her head. "I'm fine." She paused for a moment to catch her breath. "When did you --," she started.

But Sharon was out the door, heading to the car she had backed into. Jaye looked at the open door, looked into the backseat and then reached between the front seats. A tiny, warm tongue slopped across her hand. Cringing, she jerked her hand back.

Jaye opened the door on her side, stepped out and called, "Sharon? Is everyone okay?"

Voices stopped, and Sharon answered, "Stay in the car. Everything's fine."

Shutting the door behind her, Jaye walked around to the rear of the SUV. She noticed the smashed headlight of a BMW. She grimaced at the crumpled metal that hugged the corner of the SUV's fender. The fact Sharon's vehicle, at least to her view, seemed to have suffered virtually no damage was not lost on her.

"Holy shit, Sherry. That's your sister?"

Jaye looked up at the sound of the voice. The same bleached pixie hairdo. The same fancy business suit, though more than a bit water-stained. Staring at her from across the hood of the bashed BMW was the handsy blonde from The Barrel.

Sharon rolled her eyes upward. "I told you to stay in the car."

"You hit me because of her? What, did she twist your arm to do it? Jesus, Sherry, I didn't think you'd pull something like that."

Opening her mouth, Sharon began to mumble, "I didn't do it because of her" just as Jaye drowned her out with, "Who the hell is Sherry?"

"Just be quiet and get back in the front, Jaye. I can handle this."

The shorthaired blonde, who had been glaring at Jaye, turned to Sharon. "Handle this? Is that all I am? Something to handle? I'm not even a person?"

"Linny, please, that's not what I meant."

Jaye pointed at Linny. "Don't talk to my sister like that, lady."

"Jaye," Sharon screamed. "For the love of god, just once, would you shut the hell up and do what someone asks? Get inside. This doesn't concern you."

Jaye and the blonde turned to stare at Sharon. In the sketchy light of the parking lot, her face looked more pale than normal. In fact, it almost looked luminescent. Sharon put her hand out to Linny, who grasped it and stepped forward to give support.

"Sherry?" said Linny as she braced herself to hold up the taller woman.

Jaye hopped on to the BMW's hood, slid across and dropped next to her sister. "Sharon? You okay?"

She nodded. "Just stressed." She took a deep breath. A hint of color came back to her face.

"I'm sorry. I'll just get back in the car," said Jaye.

Jaye's jacket pocket squirmed and a little orange head popped out. "Stand your ground."

Jaye froze even though she knew no one else heard the voice. She watched as the grabby blonde put her arm around Sharon's waist and look at the taller woman with concern and a furrowed brow. With a deeply puzzled look on her face, she looked down at the wax lion's head. The critter merely looked back. "Stand your ground." Then it disappeared inside her pocket again.

"What the hell?"

"Hey, hey," said Linny, snapping her fingers. "Earth to psycho. You wanna pay more attention to your sister here? Pull your head out."

Jaye glanced at Sharon, whose color had returned and was getting redder by the second, coupled with an expression of mounting annoyance and embarrassment. Then Jaye turned to Linny. "My mistake. I guess I thought the only person asking for attention here was you."

The blonde's jaw dropped a bit. She gave Sharon a look that screamed, Are you going to let her get away with that?

Sharon shook her head and looked at Linny. "Your problem is with me, and I already told you we'd take care of this – I will take care of this," she said, motioning to the crumpled BMW. "Can we just go on about our business? The two of us can discuss this more tomorrow."

"Fine," said Linny, her tone softening as she stroked Sharon's arm. "But she is going to take care of my blouse and jacket." She looked at Jaye. "And they aren't cheap."

Jaye looked to Sharon, who made a small smile and cut her eyes towards Linny, begging her sister to make nice. And she did feel tired and hungry. Putting Linny in her place would just drag things out, and Sharon's almost collapse needed to be taken into consideration. I'll just go along, she thought.

"Stand your ground."

Oh, God, Jaye thought. Not again, not this, not here, not now.

And for the first time in nearly a month, she froze at the animal's guidance. Just stood there looking at Linny. Stand her ground? What ground did she have? Sharon acting weird and oddly familial. Linny groping the one person Jaye would consider actively seeking therapy just to be with. Her own acts of water revenge and savage retching. Now yet another inanimate animal, which hours earlier verbally badgered her into the path of a speeding bus, now demanded her to pay heed to its commands, to stand her ground.

What the hell did that even mean?

Jaye took a deep breath, looked Linny in the eye, and said, "Okay. And I probably owe you a drink for ruining yours earlier. I'm really sorry about all of that." The words almost hurt to say, and it took all of her strength to make herself sound sincere. But at least the choice is mine, she thought.

Sharon almost snapped her own neck turning her head to look at Jaye.


	6. Chapter 6

Sharon did her best to remember. There seemed to be a fleeting memory. So long ago. When was it?

Jimmy Soldari's 9th birthday party where Jaye puked loudly during a song, in Italian, that Jimmy's great grandfather had commissioned just for the occasion?

No.

Maybe it was the time Jaye knocked over the vast domino structure Sharon and their father had spent an entire Sunday building when Sharon was recovering from having her tonsils removed?

No, not then.

Of course, yes. The time Jaye was merely six when she punched little Davy Mitchell on the nose because she thought he was touching her rear, but it turned out only to be the rough lace hem of her own dress.

That was the last time she'd heard Jaye openly and freely apologize. Of course, Sharon still believed the apology stemmed more from Jaye's hurt hand than from the false accusation, but you took civil niceties from Jaye whenever offered.

But taking them without question? Well….

She stared at her sister, and only closed her mouth when her teeth started to dry out.

Linny, almost amazed but lacking the decades of history to be truly floored, looked confused by Jaye's sudden admission of guilt and her willingness to offer reparations. "Yeah, okay. Maybe at a different bar though." Glancing at her damaged BMW, she added, "This place doesn't seem too lucky for me."

Jaye slapped the pocket of her jacket and smiled. "Sure. Since you and Sharon seem to know each other, just let her know when, and, hey, the three of us can get together some evening. Make it an event."

Linny turned to Sharon, who, still looking bewildered, shrugged and nodded.

"Okay, I'll do that, uh, Jaye, wasn't it?"

Jaye nodded and slapped the pocket of her jacket harder than before. She stepped forward and put a hand out. The two women shook hands

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"What the hell was that?"

Jaye almost seemed to cringe at the tone of Sharon's voice. The older sister did have to admit to herself she sounded harsh after the long silence as they drove off in the SUV.

"What was what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Jesus, if you had decided to go into law, I'd sure hate to oppose you in court. That was a classic performance. Personally, I expected tears of regret, but that isn't really your style, is it?"

"Can't a person have a change of heart, Sharon? Does this whole family think I'm some sort of emotionless chameleon, just changing to be what everyone wants?"

"Well, I'm sure Dad still turns a blind eye to everything, but, yeah, pretty much."

Jaye gasped.

"What? You want me to lie?"

Jaye crossed her arms and scrunched further down in her seat. "Just take me home. I've had all the familial interaction I care to have."

"Fine. I'm feeling more than a bit run down myself. But I'd like to know one thing if you're still talking to me."

"What?" grunted Jaye.

"Why did you spray Linny?"

Jaye cut her eyes toward her sister. "Didn't she tell you in the bar?"

"What's to tell? She said you yelled and then sprayed her." Sharon paused for a beat. "Too bad Mom's therapist still has a restraining order against you."

"Thanks. Now Dad really is the only one who doesn't think I'm a whack-job."

"Really? Aaron's expressed concern as well?"

"I think he sees me as more of a case study in altered belief systems, but yeah, we've had this same chat. Kinda."

"Well, Jaye, do you think maybe there really is cause for concern if you have three-quarters of your family worried?"

Jaye sat for a moment, staring straight ahead. Sharon could almost feel the thoughts bouncing inside her sister's head. She waited for a snarky retort, but all she got was a very subdued "Probably."

Jaye cleared her throat. "So, you and this Linny. She's new?"

"Not really, but don't change the subject."

"She seems to care about you, in her own way. That's good."

"Jaye. We can discuss my personal life some other time. Right now my concern is you. And not because Dad asked me to check up on you. Tomorrow, we need to talk, and I don't want to spend the whole afternoon tracking you down." She reached over and squeezed her sister's shoulder. "Okay?"

She got a nod in response. Sharon waited, expecting something, anything sarcastic or snippy. Nothing. Her chest felt heavy with the realization that Jaye might actually have a problem deeper than a need for Ritalin and a stable personal life.

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Jaye watched Sharon's SUV drive away. The trailer park showed no other signs of life. In fact, the only trailer with an outside light on was hers. Soon, even the small wisps of road dust had settled.

Putting her hand to her throbbing head, she moved towards her door. Just a sandwich or some lunchmeat and then to bed, she assured herself.

"You're awfully quiet," she said, glancing down at her jacket pocket. "Don't tell me I finally beat you into submission."

No response.

Jaye mentally shrugged. She was more concerned with not passing out before getting inside her trailer than the silence of the wax lion. Still, in spite of the fatigue, she felt odd, as if she had forgotten something, needed to take of…oh, whatever. Nothing came to mind and trying to focus her mind on anything felt very much like sitting on a pile of mashed potatoes, uncomfortable and unproductive.

She stepped inside, closed the door, and flipped on the lights.

The lion squirmed inside of her pocket. She looked down as she turned, and saw its orange head pop out. It whistled and motioned with its head. Jaye turned her head in that direction.

All around her, from every corner of the trailer, little inanimate critter heads turned to face her. Their eyes, dozens of them, connected with hers.

Jaye felt herself inhale sharply. What the hell?

Before she could vocalize anything, the trailer seemed to shake with the sound of multitudes of voices all shouting, "Get rid of the bitch!"


	7. Chapter 7

Sharon managed to bring her SUV to a stop as gently as she could muster. Heat shot through her body. Nearly swooning, she swallowed hard over and over, keeping her lips clenched shut.

The taste of her meal-replacement drink lurked in her mouth, spiced by the lingering flavor of bile and stomach acid from her previous breakfast revisitations that morning.

Not a stomach virus, oh, please, not today, she told herself.

Eyes closed against the rolling wave of nausea, Sharon fingered the window controls. Cool air from the parking garage filled her vehicle. Her stomach settled enough for her to sigh without fear of projectile vomiting.

"Hi."

Sharon started with a jolt and screamed a small scream. She turned to see Jaye standing next to the SUV. All composure lost, Sharon promptly leaned out the window as far as the shoulder belt allowed and puked.

"Nice to see you, too."

Jaye avoided what little that came out, but her sister did not stop when the faint trickle did. Sharon's body convulsed violently, again and again.

"Hey, hey, breathe." Jaye put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "Just swallow the urge and breathe. It'll help."

The older woman jerked twice and sniffed wetly. Once, then again. She pushed herself upright and inhaled hesitantly through her nose. A few deep breaths later, one red-rimmed eye opened and looked at Jaye. A wan smile came to her lips. "You look like shit."

"What can I say? I wanna look just like my big sister." She stepped back as Sharon opened the door to her vehicle. "So, what's with the urffing? You're not thinking about turning anorexic, are you?"

Sighing, Sharon said, "Yeah, like that'll ever happen. I don't know what's wrong. Probably need to quit eating Chinese take-out all the time." Stepping down from her SUV, she continued, "Okay, now I know your finely-tuned senses didn't bring you here because you were concerned about me being queasy. What do you want? I have to meet a client in –" She glanced at her watch. "Hell, in like five minutes."

"Better chew some mints."

Sharon glared back.

"All right, all right. I was wondering if I could get Linny's number from you."

A cold stare was the short response.

"Hey, it's legitimate. I want to ask her if she happened to see the dog that was in your car last night."

"What dog? Oh. Oh, damn, you mean that fat, farting rat was in my SUV?" Sharon went up on her toes, scanning the back seat. "At least it didn't crap on the leather. Why didn't you mention this last night?"

"Hello? Does the accident ring a bell? Not to mention I was a little sub-par last night." Jaye waved her hands in dismissal. "Anyway, it probably belongs to someone in the trailer park."

"So?"

"Well, it must have gotten out when you backed into Linny. I didn't see it this morning when I picked up my car at The Barrel, so I thought I'd ask Linny."

"Hold this," Sharon said, slamming her briefcase into Jaye's chest. She crouched down, licked her right thumb and began worrying a spot on her shoes.

"Linny is a very private type of person. Let me talk to her, okay? I'm supposed to meet her for lunch, and I'll call you at work as soon as I know something."

"You missed a spot."

"Damn it! Why can't I keep my shoes clean? Crap, puke – what's next? Blood?"

"I don't think they make Jimmy Choo's in that color. There's a bit on the back of your heel."

Sharon grunted, made a vague attempt at the spot she really couldn't see, then stood up, smoothing her dark skirt and readjusting her suit jacket, blouse and bra. Turning to Jaye, she began, "Look, I really have to – "

"Go. I know." Jaye already had the briefcase in Sharon's arms. "Just go. No more puking. Take care of yourself. Go home early if you can. Tell Linny I still mean it about paying her back. And I'm not working today, so I'll get back with you, and why the hell are you still standing here? Go!"

Sharon waved and took off at a fast walk. Halfway to the elevator, she glanced back, but Jaye just smiled and made a shooing motion with one hand.

Once Sharon vanished into the garage's elevator, Jaye sighed, allowing herself to glance at the puddle of sick next to the SUV. She shook off a thought that didn't seem to want to gel, then brought her other hand from behind her back. Sharon's day-planner, overstuffed and smelling faintly of cigarettes and expensive perfume, filled that hand.

"Oh, damn, Sharon, I guess this must have fallen out while I held your briefcase. I'll just keep it safe, shall I?" Then she turned to find her own car.


	8. Chapter 8

The kisses and passionate attention came like a flush of heat from a central air system. What a heavenly way to be greeted in the morning.

Linny giggled and sighed as the amorous assault continued. Her whole body slowly awakened as her heart rate increased in direct relation to the kisses and love nips that continued, moving from her neck to her earlobes. Not willing to let go of her floating, half-dream state, she kept her eyes closed.

Ah, wonderful! But who was it? There had been no plans for a morning surprise. Sherry? She smiled. Hmmm, there was that intensity of a mostly closet lesbian that made the tall blonde so intriguing. But she had an early client meeting, and she never allowed pleasure to get in the way of business.

Oh, but there was Jason, that cute little intern she had slipped a key to after that meet-and-greet for the new foreign investment group at work. He was eager to please and still deliciously young and unskilled enough to be too heavy on the wet tongue. And she HAD worked him into a drooling tizzy last evening before heading out with her friends for a bit of shopping and drinks at The Barrel.

Linny smiled. She would have to give him a little lecture on inappropriate behavior after a bit of her own. Her hand reached out lazily – and encountered nothing.

The erotically romantic dream shattered, and she opened her large blue eyes with a savage jerk and a small squeak. She told herself she had to still be dreaming.

Teetering back onto its haunches, a Chihuahua shaped roughly like a fleshy grapefruit leered at her, its tongue flopping between its lips. The dog offered a soft, breathy "Woof" as it continued to roll backwards.

Linny watched, stunned, as the little dog, with only the faintest look of bewilderment, disappeared over the edge of the bed, followed by a soft thump and a wheezy bit of flatulence.

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Jaye sat in the middle of a park. No trees, no children, no animals, nothing nearby. Just her, the park bench and Sharon's planner.

As few distractions as possible, she decided. No influences by talking critters. No humans to offer temptations or psychoanalytical perspective. Only Jaye and her own thoughts. Well, that, and the hope of finding her true feelings now that she had stolen more than just her sister's new blouse or prized lipstick. Sharon's organizer. Her reason for life. The one thing she relied on more than cigarettes and the occasional gin and tonic to keep her life manageable and carefully defined.

Completely cut off from any voice other than her own, Jaye waited for her Self to say whether she should open the organizer or not.

She found her inner voice utterly mute from inactivity.

"Well, hell," she muttered.

Being honest with herself, the only thing coming to mind was the relentless assault of dozens of chattering faux animals, each screaming, "Get rid of the bitch" in a different voice, a different pitch, a different tone. Headphones and loud music could not drown them out. Pleading, reasoning and protesting did not dent the din.

She shuddered. Everything used to be all cute but annoying, but since she'd survived being taken hostage by that armed fruitcake on the lamb, the little non-animals had become more vocal. In fact, she wasn't that surprised when Sharon informed her that she had missed family night for two weeks. The days had become a medley of cryptic orders and hints from anything what resembled an animal without a pulse. Combined with rampant shoplifting and impulse purchasing of whatever decided to communicate with her, Jaye felt as though she was on the receiving end of a relationship with an ethereal bad boy – tired, no will power, constantly handing out all of her money, but all without the thrill of illicit sex.

Oh well, she reasoned, if it will get them to shut the hell up, just a peek at the address section couldn't hurt. Right?

With a defeated sigh, Jaye unsnapped the blinding strap. The organizer, under immense pressure from Sharon's pack rat collection of bits of paper, Post-its, business cards and whatnot, sprang open. Jaye found herself looking at a paper napkin on which someone with a bit of artistic talent (obviously not her sister) had drawn a caricature of Sharon. Cocking her head in bewilderment, she rotated the sketch for a better view. Definitely Sharon. With furry little cat ears and whiskers. Just as Jaye started to laugh, the drawing's eyes turned to look at her.

"Hey!" it shouted in Sharon's pissy voice.

"Oh shit."


	9. Chapter 9

Jaye slammed the day-planner shut. She looked around and screamed, "That's not funny. You can't hijack my family like that. It's not fair."

Muffled shouting came from the leather planner that she tightly held shut. The urge to throw the thing and run derailed her panic, giving her a fevered glimpse of a way out. As she lifted her arm, the voice inside became clearer.

"Don't even think about it. Put me down and listen." Jaye paused, chewing her lower lip as she considered her options.

"Now," screamed Sharon's voice, and Jaye dropped the organizer onto the bench. She sighed and buried her face in her hands.

"I know, I know. 'Get rid of the bitch.' I know, alright. I've heard it all night. Jeez, just shut up."

Sharon's voice mocked her. "'I know, I know.' If you know, then why are you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself?"

Jaye glared at the organizer, then flipped it open to the drawing. "If you and your other little buddies would be just a tad more specific, I wouldn't spend all my time running around in a state of confusion, which happens to make me very tired. You know, other people my age have very meaningful social interactions with conversations about reality television, their blogs and other crap. I spend my time being bossed around by…by…things like you."

"Oh, waaaaaaa. Baby doesn't get to spend her life hiding in her trailer. Try being sandwiched between a dry cleaning receipt and the phone number of some woman who has faded from memory."

"Fine. Let's trade. You can risk your neck. That is, if you have one."

Cat Sharon rolled her eyes. "Do you ever listen to yourself? Not everything is about you. Get a life."

"Give mine back then." Jaye made a sour face. "God, you even bitch like Sharon. This is too creepy."

"Well, that's what you get for stealing."

"I 'borrowed' her planner, thank you."

A smug look of superior satisfaction came to the drawing's face. "In either case, you brought this on yourself, so accept the consequences and get over it. Get rid of the bitch."

The drawing froze.

With a frustrated growl, Jaye flipped the pages until she found Linny's name and address, and then wrote it on her palm. "You want me to get rid of the bitch? Let's just do that, shall we?"

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Sharon spritzed perfume into the wastebasket next to her desk. Damn stomach again, she thought as a voice rambled in her ear. The combined odors from the basket make her nose wrinkle and her eyes water.

"Mr. Delemond, I'm sure your client is a very honest person, but crossing the border to merchandise possibly pirated video material does not qualify him for a work visa in the U.S."

Renewed jabbering for the other end of the line received an eye roll. She felt weary, and the day hadn't even started. The only upside was the cancellation of her early meeting, though the client threatened to reschedule. Sharon allowed herself to spend a ridiculous amount of time, by her standards, crouching in the ladies room stall as she prayed for the nausea to fade, and that no one would hear if it didn't.

"Okay, okay, Mr. Delemond, I don't do consultation over the phone, so why don't we just schedule a meeting? Okay?" She reached for her briefcase and popped the latches. "I do have to be honest and tell you that I think you and your client are wasting your time and money." She opened the case. "Yes, I am going to charge you, sir. This isn't a pro bono organization."

As she stared into her briefcase more intently, Mr. Delemond's voice faded. What the hell happened to her planner? Even the nausea vanished as cold panic started tingling along her nerves. Mentally, she retraced her steps from sealing the day-planner inside the case right up to the current phone call, which was proceeding without her input or attention. At no point had she even opened her briefcase, so when would she….

"That bitch," she screamed. A harsh retort came from the phone. "No, not you, Mr. Delemond. Call back, if I'm not in jail by then." She slammed the phone down, grabbed her purse and snapped to her feet.

"Oh god," she muttered as her vision fogged and her stomach tried to turn inside out – again.


	10. Chapter 10

Jaye looked at the deformed orange lion. "Any last comment before I wreck Sharon's romance?"

The lion looked away, cleared its throat and said, "Stand your ground."

"Oh, shut up."

She threw open the car door to step out, only to be blown back in by the backwash of a pickup truck speeding past mere inches away from her door. Jaye bit down on the urge to scream and swallowed it back. Turning to the wax figure in her hand, she whispered, "Okay, I'll listen next time."

The lion gave her a smug "Hrmph" and ceased to move.

This time, after checking carefully, Jaye got out of her car and looked around.

Linny's address placed Jaye in a very upscale neighborhood, though it was more residential than expected of the boyfriend fondler. Instead of condos and townhouses and parking garages, two- and three-story houses and pristine lawns lined the street. Linny's house turned out to be a modest two-story place with large bay windows and a lush lawn that sloped down to the curb where Jaye's car sat.

A dull roar reached her ears. As she turned to look, Jaye found herself slammed against her car by the wake of another high-speed vehicle zipping past.

She looked at the orange lion.

"Why didn't you say anything? You trying to get me killed? Again?"

No response. No movement.

Looking both ways, Jaye scurried around her little car and up the dew-soaked slope to Linny's front door.

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Sharon weaved around another old man with a walker. Her third within the last block. But no old women. They apparently had the good sense to stay home and out of the roadway.

Smooth sailing. At least until the next intersection. She let her cell phone redial Linny's number. Holding the phone to her ear wit her shoulder, she managed to avoid a car door flung open. Sharon laid on the horn.

Voice mail. Again.

She dropped the phone into her jacket pocket and pushed harder on the accelerator.

Dancing in her mind were images of slapping Jaye's face back and forth with such exaggerated force that she expected her sister's head to spin like a roulette wheel.

Such anger, she chided herself. It's not like she felt Jaye caused this trouble intentionally. Trouble seemed to be the girl's only natural talent. Even as a baby, from a high-sided crib, Jaye managed to tumble an antique lamp stand that snagged the drapes which in turn upended a suit rack and so on until Sharon, who was first to respond to the noise, found Jaye in her crib, oblivious to the domino-like ring of destruction that surrounded her.

Now Jaye just seemed more active in the calamity upon which her life seemed to sustain itself. At least she seemed to be the person behind most of the insanity, though Sharon always detected an air of bewilderment diffusing Jaye's typically defensive posture. As if her sister, while denying everything was thinking, "What just happened here?"

Maybe she's possessed, Sharon thought as she swung a hard right and swallowed back a bit of rising stomach acid. And Jaye had said Aaron seemed interested in her recent downward turn. Religion is his area. Perhaps he sees something he can sink his theological claws into.

"Or maybe Jaye's simply insane," she muttered aloud as she pulled her cell phone out and redialed Linny's number.

When she looked up, her foot slammed on the brake. In front of her paraded a woman pushing a carriage and had a child clinging to each thigh. The woman smiled and chatted in turn to each child. The two Sharon could see stared up at their mother with expressions of rapt attention and with gum-exposing smiles. The woman had a look of contentment.

Sharon promptly leaned out her open window and retched.


	11. Chapter 11

The obese Chihuahua looked as if it was attempting a break-dancing routine. Jaye watched it scrabble about, trying to gain traction on the glazed tile with its paws as it spun about on its freakishly large belly. Finally, she realized the dog was just trying to get to its feet.

With a wheeze and a squeaky flatulent toot, the dog gained its footing and stood up. It looked up at Jaye and let its tongue roll out of its mouth.

Linny clapped. "Thatagirl," she cheered. The dog shuffled to her and licked the instep of her bare right foot.

Squinting against the dog's gas, Jaye looked at Linny. "About last night…" she started.

"Oh, never mind about last night. Look, I apologize about the bartender."

Jaye had started to say something, but stopped. "You do?"

Linny bent down and picked up the dog, which promptly farted once airborne. Waving her hand and smiling, Linny kissed the dog.

"Yes. I mean, I don't know if you two have something going on, but when I saw that look on your face last night, I couldn't help myself. The competition, you know. Grew up with three sisters, and they would steal your last tube of lipstick while you were putting some on. Bad habit of mine. If someone even looks like they think they want something, I'll take it just because I can.

"But then getting soaked, seeing Sherry again, having the bartender tell me to leave, getting my car whacked, well, just kinda took the wind out of me, which, trust me, is hard to do. So I just came home and crashed."

Jaye cleared her throat and held back happy tears. Eric told this man-mauler to leave? Can potential boyfriends get any better? She decided not, in spite of her serious lack of comparisons. Then she realized Linny was still speaking and focused back on the woman.

"And this little sweetie woke me with a tongue bath, ruining a perfectly good romantic dream. After she fell out of the bed, I've done nothing since except play with her and make sure she's all right." She held the dog up to her face, and the Chihuahua lapped at Linny's nose.

Jaye paused to digest the hyper ramblings. She realized she might have the angle she needed to follow the vague orders of the critters.

"Yeah, about your romance. Are you serious about my sister or the other way around or what?" The last word came out harsh and complimented the adrenaline surge Jaye felt as she imagined bouncing Linny down the lawn and into the street.

Pulling the little dog away from her face, Linny gasped, and her eyes widened. "Your sister? Oh, no, no, no." She laughed.

Stepping closer, Jaye said, "Does Sharon know you feel this way? Maybe I should tell her." Or maybe I ought to go straight to kicking your ass, she thought.

"You think Sherry and I are dating? No, no, not since, oh, the first time she stuck her head out of the clichéd closet."

Jaye shook her head. "Wait. You're telling me that there's nothing going on between you and her?"

Linny shook her head and asked, "Would you like something to drink? I think we need to chat about Sherry."

"Sharon."

Linny smiled in such a way that made Jaye feel almost uncomfortable. "Trust me. There's a very good reason Sherry is the best name for your sister."


	12. Chapter 12

Jaye kept nudging the Chihuahua away with the toe of her sneaker. Aside from its terminal flatulence, it seemed to be an obsessive licker and her socks must have looked like cotton candy.

"Sharon isn't much of a drinker. Afraid she might lose control. I can't imagine her drunk."

"She did a lot of things that night she hadn't done before. But then, I am a bad influence." Linny smiled. "Anyway, she's trying to hide the sherry. Huge bottle. Her choice, but I think she was regretting it about then. Snags her foot in the sheets and over she went, whacking her head on the corner of the desk. I fell over laughing. I mean, there she is, feet in the air, panties twisted around her knees, and your dad is knocking on the door saying, 'Sharon? I distinctly heard you in there. Did you fall? Should I call the dorm assistant for the key? Can you hear me?' Oh my god." She sighed and laughed.

"Dad's still clueless." Jaye shook her head. "Sharon's first girlfriend. That explains why she didn't want me to talk to you. Too much history she wants to keep buried."

Linny pulled the teacup away from her lips as if it were scalding. "You mean she's still in the closet?"

"With an electric fence topped with razor wire."

"But she told you, right?"

"Sheer accident. I set her up with some guy, and it happened to come up in the middle of their date."

Linny scrunched her face. "Ooh, how did that turn out?"

"He ended up in the hospital, and Sharon is dating his ex-wife."

"Ah, that explains things."

Stifling an urge to kick the dog, Jaye asked, "Explains what?"

"You thought I was wreaking her relationship with this other woman. I thought you were being awfully protective."

"Yeah, well…."

"That's why you're here, isn't it?"

Jaye listened for some words of instruction or encouragement from the wax lion. Nothing. She sighed.

"Mostly. I figured I'd just make it simple and tell you to stay out of both of our lives."

"But you already had your revenge for me flirting with your boyfriend. This is really about Sherry, isn't it?"

If only you knew what this was about, Jaye thought. Hell, I wish I knew what this was all about.

"I wish my sisters stuck up for me like you are for Sherry."

"To be honest, after talking, I'm thinking I was just being a total bitch about everything."

Linny leaned over and lightly touched Jaye's hand. "You know, it's okay. I tend to bring out extremes in people. But now that we've got all that sorted out, everything is okay. Right?"

Groaning, Jaye said, "I don't think so."

Confused, Linny asked, "Did I do something else?"

"No. It's me. I swiped Sharon's organizer to get your address."

"Ooh, that is bad. So, Sherry has no idea you're here then?"

"Not yet."

Rapid hammering came from the front door, loud enough to make Jaye and Linny flinch and the dog whimper and fire off a volley of gas.

"Okay," Jaye said, "maybe she does."


	13. Chapter 13

Linny scooped up the Chihuahua and headed for the door. Behind her, Jaye walked as if approaching a rabid crocodile.

Sharon's voice slowly became audible and clear. "Just send her out, Linny. I don't want to get blood in your house. Hello? I know you're in there, Jaye. Open the door."

With the dog in hand, Linny pulled the door open to a completely disheveled Sharon. Her blouse was spotted with oddly colored liquid, and it had come untucked. More than a touch of lace drooped below the hem of her skirt. One run in her hose looked like a ladder to her kneecap. Her lipstick was slightly smeared, and her hair looked beyond the help of professionals.

"Give her to me. Now."

"No, no, no. My house, my guests, my rules."

"What kind of shit has she been stirring up, Linny? Other than larceny," Sharon said before attempting a lunge at her sister.

Linny slapped Sharon's hand down and then pushed the tall blonde back down the steps. She stepped out, bare feet on the brick steps and took a deep breath.

"Linny, I…" Sharon started.

"Quiet. You're ruining the stillness of the neighborhood."

In a much softer voice, Sharon said, "She stole my organizer, Linny."

"Stealing implies she had no intention of returning your organizer. She has every intention of returning it. Right, Jaye?"

Jaye nodded. "Yes, I do. I didn't think it would make you this mad, though."

Before Sharon could respond, Linny said, "See? Remorse. She made it quite clear she felt taking the organizer was the only thing she could do in order to protect her sister."

"Protect me? From what?"

"From me. She saw me coming on to the bartender at The Barrel last night, and then she saw us being chummy. What else was she to think about me, what with you being involved with someone."

Sharon stepped close to Linny. "You were coming on to Eric last night?"

Linny smiled and looked down. "Well, you know how I get around pretty people."

Looking over the short blonde, Sharon met Jaye's eyes. "Why didn't you say so last night?"

Jaye chewed on her lower lip and shrugged. "Never really came up, and I…well, it's been a pretty shitty week. Didn't see any point in tinkling in your corn flakes if you two were together."

For a moment, Sharon looked up at the sky, her expression neutral. Jaye felt a cringe coming on as she waited for an explosion or anything to rip the tension.

"Tootie," screamed Linny.

Jaye looked around in panic before following Linny's gaze. The little Chihuahua bolted down the sloping lawn, looking like a rolling ball with flailing strings attached. The dog angled itself in a direct path towards the road.

Linny leaped off the doorstep and onto the lawn where her feet had no traction on the wet grass. Her legs went up, her head went back, and she landed with a whump that made both Sharon and Jaye wince.

"Get the dog, Jaye. Go," shouted Sharon as she stepped down carefully in her heels to tend to Linny.

Eyes on the quickly moving ball of flesh making a bid for freedom, Jaye sprinted down the lawn. The dog had hit the curb, rolled off and was attempting to get to its feet. Jaye closed the distance. Unfortunately, the Chihuahua, with a speed previously unhinted at, took flight just as Jaye reached for it. She followed, snatching up the animal and hugging it close.

Her jacket pocket squirmed, and the orange lion's head popped out. "Stand your ground," it practically shouted before disappearing again.

Before Jaye could even grunt "Huh?" Sharon screamed, "Truck."

Jaye looked up to find herself in the middle of the street with a large pickup truck rushing towards her.

"Stand your ground," came the muffled command of the lion. Not that Jaye had any time to do more than cringe against the impending impact. She heard the squeal of the tires as the truck's brakes slammed home. In her arms, the dog whined and farted.

There was a thud, and then the truck sped away without a hint of stopping.


	14. Chapter 14

Sharon called out, "Jaye? Oh, god, Jaye."

First one eye, then the other, opened. There was the street, asphalt all around her. Jaye looked around. No truck. She looked down. Still standing, with a rat of a dog that looked up and slapped its wet tongue across her lips.

She didn't know whether to giggle or pass out.

"Jaye?"

Sharon's voice, but she was nowhere in sight. Up on the lawn, Linnie was struggling to get up while holding a hand to her lower ribcage. She looked like a catfish out of water.

"Jesus, Jaye. Answer me, dammit."

The voice came from her little car.

"Sharon? Where the hell are you?"

There was a shuddering sigh and a grunt. "Are you okay?"

Jaye approached her car after checking for oncoming vehicles. "Yeah, I'm fine. The dog's fine, too."

"Good. Then I'm gonna kill you. As soon as I'm able to stand up."

Peeking around her car, Jaye saw Sharon half hidden under the vehicle. She also saw a sizable dent in her door.

"Sherry?" croaked Linnie, who had finally managed to make her way down the lawn.

Jaye shoved the dog into the woman's arms and turned to help Sharon.

"Jaye, for the love of god, never do that again," Sharon said as she pushed herself up onto the lawn with Jaye easing her along with support under her sister's arms. "I thought you were," she managed before her voice caught. She sobbed.

Jaye hugged her from behind and said, "Not on my to-do list today." She squeezed Sharon tighter and hoped that would mask her sudden case of the shakes.

Linnie shushed the Chihuahua as she watched the two sisters. She gave into the emotion of the moment. Jaye was safe. Little Tootie was safe, and Sharon…well, she…

"Uh, Sharon? Is your foot supposed to point in that direction?"


	15. Chapter 15

"So. What are you going to tell Mom and Dad?"

"The truth. Mostly." Sharon shifted herself in the hospital bed, wincing slightly at the pain in her leg, now encased in a cast.

"Mostly? Is the Girl Scout is saying what I think she's saying?" Jaye raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward in the chair at the bedside.

"To be honest, Jaye, I don't even know what went on today. Dogs, vomiting, theft, and now a broken leg? You think I'm going to tell them the truth? They'd put me on meds and consider having you arrested or committed." She looked directly at her sister. "Seriously, we're all worried about you. I noticed it before you tried to smuggle our housekeeper across the border. You've always been impulsive. But the way you've been acting lately…it scares me. And I think it scares you."

Jaye looked down. Sure, things were crazy. Nothing new there. But twice now the talking critter put her in imminent danger in the last 24 hours. She wasn't sure about the voices anymore. Maybe it was all in her head. And if it was, why was she trying to kill herself?

"Do you think we could talk? Like sisters? Sisters who get along? No judgments? Just talk and listen? See, you really will think I'm crazy if I try to explain. I'd like to think that I'm not. But…" Jaye said, cut short by the arrival of Sharon's doctor.

The woman, a very tall and angular brunette, smiled at both of them. She absently adjusted her white smock and smiled even larger, if it were possible.

"I think we've got your vomiting all sorted out. I'm afraid I'll have to refer you to a different doctor to handle the case."

Sharon's brow furrowed. "Is it that serious?"

The doctor giggled, which looked very odd on a woman of her age and height as well as sounding like a gagging parrot. "Oh, no, no. Actually, I think your father will be tickled to death when he hears."

Exchanging bewildered glances with her sister, Jaye asked, "What are talking about?"

With a short clearing of the throat, the doctor said, "Well, maybe I should wait for…." She checked the file she held in her left hand. "Oh, you're not married. Well, then you can tell your boyfriend. It'll probably mean more coming from you, anyway."

Jaye snickered, and Sharon swung at her, missing easily. "Doctor, I don't understand what you're getting at."

"You're not sick, Sharon. You're pregnant."

Jaye felt her lower jaw unlatch. She saw Sharon's face go slack and pale. The doctor giggled again.

Finally, Sharon shook her head. "You've made a mistake. That is just not possible."

With a look of compassionate understanding, the doctor nodded and walked over to hand the clipboard to Sharon.

Jaye leaned over. While not an expert, she knew enough from being around her father to see the test results were supposedly Sharon's.

"But I'm not pregnant. I can't be."

"Well, no form of birth control is one hundred percent effective." The doctor put a reassuring hand on her patient's shoulder.

Shrugging off the doctor's hand, Sharon snapped, "But not having sex with men is. And I haven't. Not since high school. So, unless you believe in virgin births, you had better retest me." She shoved the clipboard into the doctor's stomach. "I am NOT pregnant."

"I can assure you there is no mistake." Her tone was defensive. "After a lawsuit a couple of years ago, we double test for every pregnancy. You symptoms indicated pregnancy, and testing confirmed it."

"No form of testing is one hundred percent effective," Sharon said. "I happen to be a lawyer, and unless I see angels heralding a new messiah, I think your hospital is looking at another lawsuit. Retest me."

As the doctor went on the defensive in the face of Sharon's anger, Jaye felt the wax lion move in her pocket. She gritted her teeth in preparation of what it might say. At this point, it couldn't be anything good.

The little smooshed face appeared, yawned and looked at Sharon and the doctor for a moment. "Hrmph," it grunted, and then turned to look at Jaye.

"Beware the Three Wise Men," it said and then disappeared.

Jaye collapsed back in the chair. Well, she thought, at least Mom and Dad won't be worried about me for a while.


End file.
